


you have me moonless, you have me breathless

by songs



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pining, because i'm emo about the lack of klance interaction IM SORRY, missing moments in season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 06:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9422921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songs/pseuds/songs
Summary: “I crave death,” Keith says, to the elevator shaft.“Absolutely same,” Lance says, grunting. Keith stills when the other boy rolls his shoulders, because, well. Personal space, maybe? The feel of skin on skin, of bone against bone, is so vastly unfamiliar that Keith holds a breath. Which is stupid, because this is Lance— dorky, flirty Lance McClain, who would rather be in a coma than stuck with Keith touching him for a moment too long.Or, well, something like that.





	

**i.**

 

“What’re you staring at?”

 

Keith startles, stowing his blade underneath his pillow in an instant. Of all people, it has to be _Lance_ that saunters into his bedroom, looking every bit a movie-character, with his facemask and bathrobe and toweled hair.

 

“What’re _you_ doing in here?” Keith snaps back, crossing his arms.

 

Lance holds up his arms in surrender— his over-long arms, which match his over-long legs and eyelashes. Not that Keith pays attention to any of that— but. They’ve been stuck on a ship together for goddamn _ages._ You start to notice things, _alright_?

 

“Well,” Lance says, seemingly baffled. “You do know we’re neighbors, right? Your room, my room. This one door.” Lance, unhelpfully, gestures to the door. “I was going to the bathroom to finish exfoliating—” He sets Keith with a level stare, as if to say, _I’m sure you don’t know what that means._ Keith nods back, as if replying with, _You’re right._ “But I took the wrong exit. It’s, uh. Dark.”

 

“Dark,” Keith echoes. “On a power-run castle, that never sleeps.”

 

“It’s good to know that wormhole improved your sense of humor,” Lance says, leaning against the wall. “I just— you seemed, with Ulaz…” He trails off. “Nevermind. Don’t worry about it.”

 

“What?” Keith asks, annoyed. “What’s your problem?”

 

“What’s _your_ problem?” Lance shoots back, before pressing the button to the door. _It’s motion activated,_ Keith almost says, _Why are you being such a moron?_ “Anyway, peace out. Chin up. Actually— chin down. I see you’ve got a pretty gross zit there. Feel free to use my cream later, g’night!”

 

And with that, the motion-activated door motion-activates shut. Keith stares at where Lance was, and then back to his pillow, where the blade is hidden. His stomach turns.

 

**ii.**

 

“It’s right, left, right!”

 

“You say that,” Lance growls, “and yet your feet keep going left, right, left!”

 

“You think I don’t know my left from right?”

 

“I bet not without doing the finger trick!” Lance goads. As if to demonstrate, he moves his thumb and forefinger so they form an ‘L’. Because he’s weird as shit, he kisses said fingers, and says, “ _L_ , for Lance, the lovely man.”

 

“I crave death,” Keith says, to the elevator shaft.

 

“Absolutely same,” Lance says, grunting. Keith stills when the other boy rolls his shoulders, because, well. Personal space, maybe? The feel of skin on skin, of bone against bone, is so vastly unfamiliar that Keith holds a breath. Which is stupid, because this is Lance— dorky, flirty Lance McClain, who would rather be in a coma than stuck with Keith touching him for a moment too long. Or, well, something like that.

 

Keith isn’t bitter, or anything. Not at all.

 

“Y’know,” Lance says, after a minute. “We haven’t been moving for like, a while.”

 

“Because your legs are so frail,” Keith replies, “I thought I’d give you a break.”

 

“That sounds suspiciously like what someone would say if _they_ wanted a break,” Lance says. “So no worries, Keithie boy. Rest away.”

 

Lance begins humming to himself, and Keith tenses again when he feels the other boy’s hair feathering along his nape. _This is Lance,_ he tells himself, which doesn’t help at all, because he’s sure he wouldn’t react like this if he were stuck back-to-back with, say, Coran. It just— had to be freaking Lance.

 

_Goddammit._

“Hey,” Lance murmurs, “are you okay?”

 

“What?”

 

“You’re breathing with your shoulders,” Lance says, his voice almost— _gentle_. “Is something the matter? We could call for help.”

 

“I’m fine,” Keith tells him. “Really.”

 

“You,” Lance starts, then stops. “Okay. How about we play a game, then? You up for it, Kogane?”

 

“What kind of game?”

 

“I learned to swim when I was two,” Lance tells him, out of nowhere. “I lived by the ocean. My mom would’ve killed me if I was no good underwater. I got my sea-legs real quick. Everyone in the family did. How about you?”

 

Keith’s heart faltered. “This is a game?”

 

“Twenty questions.” Lance pauses. “Redux. Just tell me a story while we’re going up. It passes the time, moron.” He shrugs, and Keith _feels_ it— every bone and muscle and mark. “Otherwise, I can do all the talking, since I’m so interesting—”

 

“Okay,” Keith says, his legs moving of their own accord, even as he begins to speak, “Well, there used to be this river…”

 

**iii.**

“D’you like her?” Lance asks, casually, after breakfast. The others have headed out, perhaps to find some normalcy in their exceptionally not-normal circumstances. Pidge is probably going to hack a tree, or something. Shiro is going to— do whatever Shiro does. Keith’s train of thought stops there, however, because Lance is all up in his face, asking, “ _Allura_ , man, _Allura_?”

 

“Of course I like her,” Keith answers. “She’s— our leader. We’re her paladins.”

 

“I mean,” Lance says, “do you _like_ her?”

 

Keith frowns, and Lance’s eyes do that _thing—_ where they go dark and deep and starlike, with Keith at the center of his focus. Keith knows that look. Lance wears it in sparring matches and during missions. He wears it whenever he talks about his family and whenever he’s looking out at the spooling cosmos and constellations just beyond the castle-walls.

 

Keith wants to say _, No_ , but instead, he asks, “Why?”

 

It’s no secret what Lance thinks of the Princess, or any pretty girl he happens to run into. But Lance never gets too wrapped up in any of them, not as far as Keith can tell. But his face, it looks— _wrapped up,_ in something. His expression is gauzy. Keith doesn’t understand.

 

“I guess it makes sense,” Lance says, offhandedly. “I guess so, huh?” He laughs, but it’s sort of hollow. “Like flocks to like. Brave and strong, brave and strong. Matchy matchy. I get it.”

 

“Lance?”

 

“I’m just gonna— go. Okay?”

 

“Wait,” Keith says, gripping Lance by the wrist before he can turn away. “What’s with you? You keep— starting to say something, but stopping. That isn’t like you.”

 

Lance says, “What’s _like_ me, then?” His voice rises. “An idiot? A chatterbox?”

 

“That isn’t what I meant,” Keith says. “Lance, I—”

 

“Do you like her?” Lance asks, his face blank. “I’m asking you for a reason.”

 

“So _you_ can chase after her some more?” Keith asks.

 

“No,” Lance says. “So I can do _this_.”

 

He yanks his arm away, moving to face Keith completely. Then he’s dipping forward, brushing his lips against the corner of Keith’s mouth. It’s a wet, quiet sensation. Then, it’s gone, and so is Lance. He hurries out of the room, and Keith doesn’t move, doesn’t follow him. He doesn’t say a single word.

 

He just stands there, thinking, _Oh._

 

**iv.**

They never get to talk about The Incident because, as luck would have it, _another_ incident crops up.

 

Keith’s mental tally has calculated this: Allura hates him for being Galra, Hunk is wary of him, Pidge is nervous around him, Shiro doesn’t mind it much, and Lance, is well. Ignoring him. Which cannot be a good sign.

 

That night, Keith paces in his room, staring at the stupid, annoying, motion-activated door that seems to be _beckoning_ him, begging him. _Do it, do it. Have a little faith._

For whatever reason, Keith obeys the mental goading of the door, which might be a sign of psychoses, but whatever. He’s fucking _Galra._ It probably comes with the package, along with the blade.

 

He stands up, about to breach the gap. But then, the door is opening by itself, and Lance is standing in the doorway, looking lanky and lost and tired, with half-moons under his eyes and a sallow hue to his skin. Before Keith can say a single word, Lance says:

 

“It doesn’t change anything.” A beat, and Keith’s heart is in his throat. “You being Galra.”

 

“But,” Keith says, “you’re mad at me.”

 

Lance winces, pale with something akin to guilt. “No, I…” He steps toward Keith. “I’m not mad at you. I’m sorry. I just— it’s my fault. They’re my feelings. They’re still there, but I can take care of them.”

 

“Because I’m _Galra_ now?” Keith hisses, unable to stop himself. “Is that it?”

 

“No,” Lance says, levelly. “Because you don’t like me back. Didn’t you hear me? I don’t care about that.”

 

“But Allura does,” Keith says. “The others do. Why wouldn’t you? You— you were the first person to dislike me.”

 

“Yeah, and it had nothing to do with _what_ you are,” Lance says back. “I— do you really think I’m like that? Shallow, like that?”

 

“I,” Keith says. “I don’t…”

 

“You don’t know,” Lance finishes for him. “Listen, Keith. It’s fine.”

 

“Is it?”

 

“It is,” Lance says, “because soon, Allura will come around. I’ll come around and get over this. We’ll all move on and we’re going to take Zarkon the fuck down, and we’ll be happy. We’ll be heroes. And that has nothing to do with whether you’re this or that. And it’s got everything to do with the kind of person you are.”

 

And with that, Lance shrugs, making his way back to his room. Keith, this time, does call out for him.

 

He says, “Hey, Lance.”

 

Lance waits.

 

“You,” Keith begins, “Lance. In the Garrison, I saw you once. Some blockhead was bothering Pidge during lunch. No one was saying anything. But you— you decked him right in the face. I thought,” He swallows, “you were pretty cool. And that you had nice aim.”

 

Lance stays still by the door, not facing him. He only says, “Of course I have good aim. I’m the Sharpshooter, after all.”

 

**v.**

 

_Shiro is gone._

_Shiro is gone._

_Shiro is gone._

Keith cannot sleep. He can’t breathe. He can’t do a single thing. _Useless, useless._ He shuffles back and forth, unable to process any of his thoughts, his emotions. How can someone just disappear? And how— could _Shiro_ disappear? Nothing was supposed to happen to him. He’s their _leader._ He’s the head of Voltron. He’s Takashi Shirogane, and he’s untouchable. He’s—

 

_Gone._

Allura told everyone to rest for the night, because they’d be searching for Shiro by tomorrow. But wouldn’t that be too late? What if something happens before then? How can they do nothing?

 

Keith is shaking, and then he is walking, away from his bed and through the door that connects his room to Lance’s. Lance jerks upward from his bed, alert, not a hint of sleep on him. His eyes soften once he recognizes Keith. He says, “Oh.”

 

Keith, in turn, says nothing. He rushes to the bed in three, hurried steps. Then, his hands are on either side of Lance’s smooth, shocked face, and he is kissing him. It’s a proper kiss this time, rough and open-mouthed. Lance’s eyes loll shut, then he’s kissing back, trying to ease it into something more gentle. But Keith keeps his motions honest and fervent and angry, because he’s never kissed anyone before and he’s never needed to kiss somebody more than he does now. Lance is solid, Lance is _here,_ Lance won’t disappear from his hands and from his touch. Nothing can happen if they’re like this.

 

But then, Lance pulls away, separating their lips with a _pop_. He looks— like he’s been kissed. His mouth is a red crescent. His pupils are blown. Keith’s hands are still gripping his face. Lance softly brushes his fingers along Keith’s palms, and says, “Why did you do that?”

 

Keith says, “Because… I wanted to.”

 

“Because you like me?” Lance asks. “Or because you knew I wouldn’t say no?”

 

It sounds so awful when he puts it that way. But Keith doesn’t know how to answer. Keith has never liked anyone before. He’s admired and he has yearned for others. He’s wanted to be around them, a part of their orbit. Sure, Keith admires Lance. But he’s also _aware_ of him— how he looks without a shirt, or before he combs his hair. His eyes could find Lance in a room full of people, a castle full of stars. But Lance is so— _Lance._ And Keith is so _Keith._ They’re both Paladins, but so very different.

 

And in the end, because Keith is Keith, everyone always leaves.

 

But even so, with Lance staring up at him like that, Keith cannot find it in himself to be cruel. He can’t lie. “I’m not sure,” he manages, at length. “But the day you first— kissed me. I didn’t want you to go away.”

 

“Oh,” Lance says. “I see.”

 

“Maybe the timing’s all wrong,” Keith says, “But— I want to try.”

 

“This?” Lance asks, gesturing between their mouths. “Or _us_?”

 

Keith says, “Both,” and Lance cracks a small smile, kissing his cheek.

 

“Gotcha,” he says.

 

**vi.**

 

It isn’t until later that night, after hours of stolen touches and murmurs, that Keith says, “Hey, Lance?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Do you think we’ll find Shiro?”

 

They’re sitting curled at the corner of Lance’s bed, leaning shoulder-to-shoulder. Lance sighs, an anxious sound, and says. “We have to.”

 

“Shiro,” Keith begins, “seemed like he expected this.”

 

“Disappearing?”

 

“More like,” Keith says, “dying.”

 

“He _said_ that? And you didn’t tell anyone?”

 

Keith bristles. “He told me, if anything happened to him, he wanted—” Here, Keith breaks off, knowing this could ruin everything. But he still goes on, nevertheless, “me to lead Voltron.”

 

Silence. And then, “You?”

 

“I,” Keith says, “want to protect you. And the team.”

 

He wishes he didn’t say it. Because Lance’s entire face closes right up. Everything— the tenderness, the want, the longing— is gone. Now, all that is left is Keith and Lance and a pane of utter quiet. It is Keith and Lance, yet nothing is the same at all.

 

“Protect me,” Lance echoes, at last. “You want… to protect me.”

 

“Of course I do,” Keith tells him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

 

“No,” Lance says, jolting upright. “You don’t. Tell me you don’t.”

 

“But—”

 

“You want to protect Earth, because everyone is helpless, there,” Lance says. “You want to protect the Princess because you’re her soldier. You want to protect the people we meet among all those cosmos and planets because they’re innocent and hurting. You don’t—” Lance gulps. “You don’t want to protect me, Keith. We’re— paladins. The both of us. We’re _equals._ Maybe at the Garrison we weren’t. Maybe you’re Galra and I’m not. Maybe Shiro picked you and not me or anyone else, but. _Keith_ …”

 

“Lance,” Keith tries to assure him, “it would only be until we found him. You think I want this?”

 

“No,” Lance replies. “I know you don’t. But you think you’re the one who has to do it. Which is even worse.”

 

“What does that even mean?”

 

“Nothing,” Lance says. “ _Everything._ ”

 

“Hey, Lance—”

 

“I think,” Lance says, “you should go.”

 

“Don’t get mad at me,” Keith says. “I didn’t choose—”

 

“You didn’t choose any of this,” Lance says. “You’re right. But there are some things you can change, and decide for yourself, Keith. Kissing me, being Voltron’s leader. Don’t force yourself into things because someone wanted you to.”

 

Keith’s heart drops. “That’s not—”

 

“I think,” Lance repeats, “you should leave.”

 

He’s scowling, with the same lips Keith was just kissing, an hour ago. The rift between them is fresh, born anew, wider than Keith can ever remember it being. Now, it is so much more than a door, or a wall, or a bickering memory. It’s everything.

 

Keith walks toward his room. His chest hurts. His teeth ache.

 

He only says, “Alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> I FINISHED ALL OF S2 IN LIKE, 2 DAYS. bc ya girl has 0 self control. i loved it, although some parts i believe needed a bit of work, esp re: hunk and LANCE. my sea-son. so have some missing snippets, because keith and lance have a rly important relationship which i missed onscreen and i cannot wait to see what happens in season THREE!!


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